


With You On My Arm

by orphan_account



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil
Genre: Aging, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Body Image, Body Worship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Old Married Couple, Porn Without (much) Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 05:14:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10632975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Valjean shows Javert how much he still desires him even after so many years together.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This started life as a larger fic and this was just one scene. But I lost the rest of the document and then realized I liked this scene more than the rest anyway. So decided to post it.
> 
> I wanted to write something for an older Valvert with insecurities about aging - and this idea was born.

Javert steps out of the shower and wraps a towel around his waist. The warm steam lingers in the cold bathroom and blankets the full floor length mirror. 

 

He looks in the distorted image and can almost recognize the figure looking back, as though his younger self looks back at him. He wipes at the glass revealing the image beneath. 

 

Javert leans forward. There are now lines around his eyes and creases around his mouth that have nothing to do with laughter, and there is a permanent crevice in the forehead that always makes him appear as though he is frowning, though he often is. 

 

When had he gotten so…  _ old _ ? It seems one night he had gone to bed as a young man and woken up as an old man. Who is this stranger that looks back at him?

 

He notices another figure in the glass over his shoulder, standing in the doorway. It is easier to study his lover and partner in this way. Though Jean has retained the strength and size that had first made such an impression on him years ago he cannot ignore that age has made Jean  _ smaller _ in some way.

 

He watches Valjean come up behind him in the mirror. Jean looks as tired as Javert feels. They both look tired. 

 

“What are you doing up so early?” Javert asks. Jean usually rises with the sun, and never before.

 

“Couldn't sleep,” Jean wraps his arms around Javert’s chest and lays his head in the crook between shoulder and neck. “What about you?” 

Javert had slept in the guestroom after yet another argument, the first time they had slept separately under the same roof in the twenty years they have been together.

 

“Early morning meeting with a new client.” It isn't exactly a lie, there  _ is  _ a meeting. But he is not about to admit to Jean that he could not fall asleep without the comfortable weight of his body against him, his arms around him. His breath against his ear. “Thought I'd get an early start.” He had been hoping to leave the house before Jean even got out of bed. 

 

“Don't leave me, Javert,” he whispers. “I will not beg you to stay with me. But I don't think I could survive it if you left me as well.” 

 

“Cosette did not leave you, Jean. She got married.” He leans back into Valjean’s strong arms. He could never leave this man who has been a part of his life for so long that he does not even know who he would be without him. “And I’m not going anywhere. Do you ever miss it? The thrill of the chase?”

 

“You always enjoyed the chase more than I,” Valjean chuckles. “I am much too old to run anymore, anyway. Do…  _ you _ miss it?” 

 

“I miss the way you once looked at me,” Javert says. 

 

“Do you want me to show you what I see when I look at you?” Valjean lowers his arms towards the towel around Javert’s waist, drops it around his feet, and turns his face towards their reflection. “I see the youth that I first desired more than twenty years ago and the man I have grown to love more with each passing year.”

 

Javert looks away from the mirror. “Don't, Jean. I know you do not desire me as you once had. You don't have to pretend.” 

 

Valjean chuckles quietly. “I am old and fat, Javert. And a fool.” 

 

“You're distinguished,” Javert says. “There's a difference.” 

 

“ _ Fat and old _ ” Valjean insists. “If I haven't shown you much affection lately the cause is my own insecurities and not for any lack of desire for you, I swear. And you? Do you regret committing yourself to an old man?”

 

“You're only twelve years older than me.”

 

“An entire decade. And you haven't answered my question, do you regret it?” 

 

“In a lifetime of doubts you are the only thing I have never doubted in my life, Jean.” 

 

Valjean tilts his head back and begins to kiss him, gently. He slides his big hands down his bare sides and pulls away with a smile. “Allow me to demonstrate how much I still desire you.” He slides his hand along the younger man's backside and slips a finger between the crevice of cheeks. He pushes the finger in the hole with little resistance. “I hope you were thinking of me the whole time.” He chuckles. He crooks his finger and pulls it partway out, pushes back in and repeats the gesture. “Did you imagine it was my fingers stretching you?” He adds another finger to the first. It is a tighter fit, but not painful. He scissors them together. “Or did I watch while you stretched yourself out with your own fingers for me?” 

 

“Bastard,” Javert growls after a particularly quick twist. He feels himself growing hard.

 

Valjean chuckles. “You were always the exhibitionist.” He moves his other hand towards Javert's stiffening cock. “I want you to watch now. I am going to show you how beautiful you are when I touch you.” He begins his touch at the base and works his way to the tip. 

 

Javert throws his head back. The sensation of Jean’s rough hands on his already sensitive flesh is almost too much. His fingers trace the path of every throbbing vein of his erection. His caress is like a sculpturist giving soft clay shape. 

 

Jean squeezes yet another finger in his hole. The tightness burns and his rim contracts around Jean’s fingers. The hiss of pain quickly becomes moans of pleasure as he begins to move his fingers again. Jean finds a sensitive spot at the same moment he strokes an engorged vein in Javert’s penis. Javert tenses and bites his lip to keep from screaming out. 

 

“I have you, Javert,” Valjean says in his ear. “You can trust me. Let yourself go.” He kisses along his neck. “Look at yourself. You're so beautiful.” 

 

Javert opens his eyes at Jean’s urging. He looks at the reflection in front of him. He cannot see whatever it is Valjean thinks he sees. All he sees is a middle aged body beginning to sag and wrinkle with cellulite and stretch marks, like skin that has been stretched too thin. He turns his face away in disgust.

 

“Twenty years ago I believed you were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen,” Valjean says. “I was wrong. You are even more beautiful today, right now, with all our years together marked on your body.” 

 

Javert meets Jean’s eyes in the mirror’s reflection and sees something that he has not seen in them in too long.  _ Lust. Desire.  _ He does not see what Jean sees when he looks at himself but perhaps he does not have to when Jean looks at him  _ that  _ way. 

 

Valjean rubs the tip of Javert’s throbbing cock with his thumb, the pressure somewhere between pleasure and pain. He gasps with shortness of breath. His heart beats too quickly in his chest, and he can feel the pulse in his penis. 

 

He feels faint. And he briefly fears he is having a heart attack.  _ And wouldn't that be a pathetic sight? _

 

Valjean pulls him flush to his front, he can feel the other’s significantly large erection press into his backside. Jean continues to massage Javert’s cock as he uses his other hand to gently touch the sensitive sacks on either side. 

 

There is no other thought in Javert’s mind but an almost euphoric pleasure. His eyes stay on Jean as his sight fades to white, the last thing he sees is a white light above his lover's head before his whole spirit seems to expel out of his body. 

 

He collapses back into Valjean’s strong arms and welcomes the comforting nothingness. He imagines this is what death might be like.Javert wakes to the feel of Jean’s mouth on his. He parts his lips and Jean breathes into his mouth. The kiss is gentle, almost chaste, and centers him back to his body. 

 

Javert turns towards Jean, deepening the kiss, keeping it nice and slow, and thrusts his hand down the other’s pajama pants and is met with Jean’s almost completely flaccid, but still dry, member. He pulls away in confusion. 

 

“I'm sorry…” Jean backs away. “It… isn't you.” 

 

“Jean,” Javert frowns in worry. It  _ happens.  _ He  _ knows  _ it happens. But it has been happening with greater frequency this past year, and he fears that it might be a sign of something more ominous. “It's fine. I will need to take another shower now, anyhow. Join me.” 

 

Jean brings his arm up, takes a step forward, reaching for Javert, but holds himself back. “I would not want to disappoint you.” 

 

“You could never disappoint me,” Javert takes his hand and pulls him forward. “It is only a shower. You are always taking care of everyone else, let someone else take care of you for once.” He kisses him briefly and steps back to help remove Jean’s pajamas and pulls him into the shower. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the abrupt ending... 
> 
> Still getting a feel for writing sexual scenes... Hopefully this isn't too painful :/


End file.
